


flesh

by montecarlos



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Blood, Blow Jobs, Flashbacks, Into the Flesh AU, M/M, Mild Gore, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/montecarlos/pseuds/montecarlos
Summary: His hands dance over his skin, but it feels foreign to him now. It’s hard to see through the smears on the glass, he doesn’t look like himself but that’s to be expected - after all, he’s not himself anymore. In which Daniil and Carlos have to cope with the fact that he's not exactly the same person he used to be.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [piratemoggy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratemoggy/gifts).



> This fic was cooked up in the vestiges of my brain, but would not have been possible to gift to my wonderful wife without the help of my other wonderful wives and May, who all offered cheerleading and generally being amazing as always. Dear wife, I think this is the worst kept secret ever but who else could write you fic but me? I hope you like it!
> 
> :)

There’s a crack in the mirror, Dany notes as he stares at his own reflection in the mirror. Daniil swipes the concealer underneath his eyes one last time, eyeing the pale, papery skin. His hands dance over his skin, but it feels foreign to him now. It’s hard to see through the smears on the glass, he doesn’t look like himself but that’s to be expected - after all, he’s not himself anymore.    
  
“Daniil,” Dr Tost’s warm voice washes over him. The doctor stands behind him, the needle already in his hand ready. Dany worries his lip, his eyes moving away from the mirror as they focus on the man before him - the man who is still breathing, who is still warm. He wonders if he will feel the sting this time, but as always, he feels nothing. He doesn’t feel the pain, he doesn’t feel the sting that he remembers. But things were different then, back before everything happened. He barely remembers the moment - it comes back to him in flashes - sometimes it’s the pills in his hand, sometimes it’s the curl of panic that slammed through his chest. He doesn’t remember the cold earth, doesn’t remember his mother’s screams.    
  
“All done,” Dr Tost’s voice breaks through his thoughts as he pulls the needle away - Daniil doesn’t miss the lack of blood as the calm brown eyes fix on him. “You’ve been ready to rejoin society for over a month now,”   
  
“It doesn’t seem right,” Dany whispers, glancing back to the broken mirror. “I doubt it will be the same, I doubt they will be happy to see me,” His eyes are still all white, a sign of what he was, of what he still  _ is _ to an extent.    
  
“Daniil,” Dr Tost says softly. “What you did wasn’t your fault,” He pauses. “It....it was part of your  _ condition _ ,”   
  
“I killed people, Dr Tost,” Dany spits back, eyes blazing as they fix on the older man. “I ripped them apart...I can still taste their blood in the back of my throat,”   
  
“And that’s understandable, but you weren’t human then, Daniil. You were ill,”   
  
“I was dead, Dr Tost,” Daniil whispers from between chapped lips covered with make up, make up to hide what he truly is, to hide the truth from the outside world. “I still am dead to most people, I died that night I decided to swallow those pills,”   
  
“But you have another chance,” Dr Tost says, his arms curving around Dany’s shoulders. “Don’t think of The Rising as your second chance, the chance for you to do something right, to see your loved ones again,”   
  
Dany thinks of brown eyes, of the person he misses most of all - he regrets not saying goodbye, regrets not seeing those eyes one last time. Carlos was the first person that he thought of when he came to in the hospital, when he’d bucked against the restraints, when the panic hit him. He thinks of Carlos often, wonders what he is doing now, if he’s moved on at all. The hurt fills him again as he thinks about the freckles dancing over his skin, thinks about the deep brown eyes before they disappear, replaced by a look of fear on Carlos’s face, as the walkers rip into his skin. He’d had nightmares about Carlos being torn apart by them, by him - that Carlos would glance into his emotionless eyes, that he would no longer recognise the man he loved more than anything.    
  
“You could see Carlos again,” Dr Tost says, his gentle eyes resting on the young man. “You could see your family again,”   
  
“I know that,” Dany says quietly. He glances back at the cracked mirror, at his distorted reflection. He thinks about hugging his mother again, about the fact he will not feel her tears against his skin, about his father’s hand brushing over his papery skin, about Carlos’s fingers grasping his own. It hurts. He wonders if they’ve moved on since his death - they probably have, the Rising made sure of that. The Rising - the metallic taste rises up in his mouth at the sheer thought. “I just...what if they never accept me? What if they’re angry for what I did?”   
  
“For killing yourself, maybe,” Dr Tost says in a no-nonsense tone. “But they couldn’t be angry for what you have done after that. After all, you weren’t in control, you barely knew what you were doing,”   
  
Dany opens his mouth to argue but Dr Tost silences him, holding something out in his hand for the younger man to examine. A pair of hazel-green contact lenses - so similar to Dany’s eye colour when he was alive - sit in the doctor’s palm. “You have a chance, Daniil,” The doctor says gravely. “To relive your life, to prove you are more than just a sufferer of PDS,”   
  
Dany is silent as he contemplates it for another moment - the contact lenses so much like his human eyes, a clear link to who he used to be, who he wants to be once more, shine in the light. Dany thinks of dark brown eyes again, thinks of the smile on Carlos’s face as he sees Dany once more. The thought of Carlos is what makes his finger close around the pair of lenses, vowing to adhere to this new life, to become something else.    
  


* * *

  
  
However, Carlos doesn’t react in the way that Dany expected. His parents were fairly simple - his mother had cried, he’d pretended to feel the tears against his cheek as she’d pulled him close. His father had hovered in the background as though he might break. But Carlos doesn’t cry or scream, he just stares at Dany, as though he’s unable to comprehend what is happening.    
  
“Chili,” Dany says weakly, his eyes fixed on the younger man - that’s what Carlos is now, the teenager with the chubby cheeks and the hair hanging over his forehead is gone, replaced by a figure with shorter hair and chiselled cheekbones. His eyes, his beautiful caramel coloured eyes, are fixed on Dany, his skin slowly paling.    
  
“Chili, it’s me,” Dany repeats, moving closer to the young man. “It’s  _ me _ ,”   
  
“No, no, it can’t be, you-” Carlos says, shaking his head. “You’re not supposed to, you’re not supposed to be here. I-”   
  
“Carlos, please,” Dany whispers, reaching his hand out to the young man. He wants nothing more than to cradle him in his arms, to brush his hands through his hair one more time. It looks soft in the light, softer than Dany remembers. He finds himself glancing at it, wanting to touch it. But Carlos looks terrified - his eyes are wide as he moves away, wraps his arms around himself.    
  


“You died, you were dead - I went to see you at rest,” Carlos says, shaking his head. “You can’t be still alive-”   
  
“I’m not,” Dany finds himself saying. He wants to reach out, wants to touch Carlos, to show that he’s still here. “But-”   
  
“I cradled you in my arms, Daniil,” Carlos says, his eyes turning glassy with tears. “I cradled you as you died, as you took your last breath,” He stops for a moment. “We buried you in your favourite t-shirt, your mom cuddled me as we tossed roses onto your coffin,”   
  
“Then the Rising happened,” Dany says softly, averting his eyes. “But I’m still me, I’m still the same person as before,”   
  
“But you’re dead, Daniil. I watched you die,” Carlos says, the tears slowly falling down his face. “I went to your funeral, I tried to move on,”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Dany bites out finally, fighting the urge to bite down on his lip. “I never meant to hurt you,”

  
“But you did, Daniil,” Carlos says, shaking his head. The hurt is evident on his face and it hurts Dany - it hurts to know that he can never cry again, that he cannot take away Carlos’s pain. He begins rubbing at his eye, a tic he had when he was alive, only to realise the mistake he’s made as he pulls his hand away. Carlos’s eyes immediately land on his eye, on the make up smeared away revealing the dark veins hidden underneath, the ones the medication couldn’t hide.    
  
“I have to go-” Carlos says, face paling further. “I have to-”   
  
“Chili, please-” Dany begins but before he can finish, Carlos disappears. He feels the emptiness sink in his chest as he watches Carlos walk away from him, his shoulders visibly shaking. Dr Tost never prepared him for this.    
  


* * *

  
  
He doesn’t see Carlos again for a few days but he tries to sink back into his life, back into the way things were before. His parents have kept his room the same as it was but it feels fake, he doesn’t feel like the same person he was back then. He can’t feel the soft bedspread against his fingers, the posters on the wall are faded as though they’ve been frozen in time. His parents tiptoe around him and try treat him differently, afraid that he will sink back away from them. Dany lays in between the sheets of his bed - he can’t feel the scratchiness against his skin - but that doesn’t matter to him. His thoughts turn to Carlos, to how hurt he looked - as he presses his face against the sheets. He tries to block out the image of Carlos’s dark brown eyes, filled with pain and anguish as he whines against the sheets, his fingers fisting into them.    
  
He wants to cry, more than anything, knows that nothing will come out of his eyes, that his tear ducts dried up a long time ago. He wants to scream out, cry for what he’s lost - but he knows he won’t help. He knows he won’t sleep - it’s impossible to - but it’s something close to sleep. He closes his eyes, tries to relax against the soft sheets. The memories swim up in his mind, the sensation of his teeth tearing into soft flesh, of the blood running down his throat. He only remembers it in snatches - Dr Tost says that it’s just his imagination but it feels  _ real _ . The girl screams out as his teeth close on her throat, the blood spills over his tongue but he doesn’t taste it, he just knows it’s there. He can feel the hunger sate for a moment - before the girl screams again and again, his teeth ripping, he can’t stop as she morphs into Carlos before his eyes -    
  
Gasping out in the moonlight, he finds his eyes opening, panting out into the air. He drags a breath into his lungs, knowing that it won’t make a difference. But he does it anyway, thinks about the images replaying inside his mind. He picks up his phone, his finger sliding over the screen as he hovers over Carlos’s name. He clicks the button and lifts the phone to his ears, it rings out again and again. Carlos doesn’t answer. The phone continues ringing out and Dany tries to ignore the sinking feeling pressing down into his bones. He knows that he’s hurt Carlos - knows that it’s a big thing for him to accept - it’s not everyday that your  _ best friend dies and comes back to life _ .    
  
His chest still aches when the sun rises and his phone remains silent. The morning arrives and Dany tries to pretend that life is normal, tries to pretend it hurts when Dr Tost presses the needle into the hole in the back of his neck. He feels nothing when his mother presses him against herself, when his father smiles at him. He has to get away, gets into his beat up Mini Cooper, that somehow survived the mass destruction, drives to the place only he and Carlos know. The sun is still rising over the horizon, the pinky-peach colour stretches out over the distance, brushing against the pale blue sky as he parks his car up. He approaches the bench slowly, glancing out over the view before him - he can always appreciate the view, living, dead or undead - the fingers of sunshine brushing over the fields, illuminating them brightly. However, it’s not just the view that stops his heart (ironic really, since it’s already stopped) is that of a familiar figure standing and watching the sun rise.    
  
It’s Carlos.    
  


* * *

  
  
Dany takes in the sight of his best friend for a moment - takes in the dark hair and the tanned skin, in the fluffy scarf and thick coat that he’s bundled himself into - and feels a smile tug at his lips. He allows himself to watch Carlos, to pretend that everything is still normal between them. This is their place after all, the place where Carlos and he kissed for the first time - their chapped lips sliding against each other and it had felt so right - the place where Carlos admitted that he had feelings for Dany with blush on his cheeks and downcast eyes. It’s the place they’ve run to when they’re upset or angry, to slump against one another in moral support as the sun brushes against their faces. Dany can’t feel the sun against his face, the comforting warmth isn’t there. But it doesn’t matter as he moves closer towards Carlos, itching to grab hold of his wrist. He knows he won’t feel how soft the skin is, how warm it is against his own, but Carlos will still feel like home to him.    
  
“Chili,” He calls out and watches Carlos’s relaxed stance melt away, his shoulders hunching up. It hurts - the rejection hurts more than he cares to admit - as Carlos turns slowly. “Chili, I called you,”   
  
“Didn’t feel like speaking,” Carlos admits, his expression is a neutral one. 

  
“I understand,” Dany replies, just to fill the silence.    
  
“Hard to understand a living person, Daniil,” Carlos says, his voice turning spiteful.    
  
“Chili, please, don’t be like this-” Dany begins only for Carlos to cut him off, eyes blaring, looking dangerous and dark.    
  
“Stop calling me that! You’re not him!” Carlos screams out, tears falling down his cheeks.    
  
“Chili-”    
  
“No! Stop! You’re not the Dany I knew! You’re just- just-” Carlos stops for a minute and looks out over the sunlight slowly bursting over the horizon. “You’re someone else to me,”   
  
The words sting. But he takes a deep breath. “You’re right, I’m not the same person I was before. But I still remember things about us, about how much you meant to me, about what I meant to you,”   
  
He can hear Carlos’s sharp exhale. “I-”   
  
“I’m still Dany, I still remember,” Dany whispers. His hand moves to cup Carlos’s cheek gently, moving in closer to his best friend. He wishes that he could feel Carlo’s rough stubble underneath his hands, wishes that he could sense the breath of air brushing against his skin. “I still remember what you feel like, what you smell like, what noise you make as I kissed you-”   
  
“Daniil-” Carlos begins, only to be silenced by Dany’s lips against his own. Dany smiles into the kiss as Carlos purrs against his lips - he can’t feel anything against his lips but he just knows that Carlos is there. He pulls back the memories of Carlos’s lips against his own, back when he was alive. He remembers how soft they were, how warm they were against his own. Carlos groans against him, his hand brushing over the Spaniard’s cheek, down to twine in his hair. He can’t feel the soft skin against his hands but he feels Carlos’s sharp intake of breath at the coldness of his touch. His hand folds into Carlos’s hair, tugging on the strands as he tries to remember how it felt against the pads of his fingers. They seem to kiss for an eternity. It feels like old times - with Carlos against him - but he cannot feel a thing, he can hear Carlos’s heart beating against his chest but nothing else. He knows that Carlos’s skin will be warm against his own but he cannot feel the brush of Carlos’s fingers as they move over his neck.    
  
“Dany-” Carlos mutters against his cold lips as he pulls away, his eyes heavy lidded and almost onyx coloured. His lips are covered with a sheen of slick saliva. “Dany, I-”   
  
Dany looks at Carlos, at his flushed cheeks, at the saliva clinging to his lips, at the swell of warm cock pressing against his jeans. He looks so  _ alive _ . The hurt surges through Dany as his eyes take in the sight of his best friend. Carlos has changed so much, he’s hardly the person he was before. His hair is longer, his hair is more streamlined, his eyes shine with so much love. It unnerves Dany - if his heart was still working, it would be slamming against his ribs.  He pulls away from Carlos, teeth tugging on his lip as he watches the hurt fill the Spaniard’s eyes.   
  
“We shouldn’t-”   
  
All he can think about is how alive Carlos looks. It hurts - it only serves as a reminder of how Carlos was right. He’s a shell of what he once was.    
  
“But Dany, I-”   
  
“You’re right, I’m not the same person I was before,” Dany says, looking down at his feet. “I can’t feel your touch,”   
  
“Dany-”   
  
“I can’t be the person you want me to be. I want things to go back to the way they were but I’m not alive, Chili,” Dany whispers, struggling to speak. “My heart doesn’t beat anymore,” He’s silenced as Carlos wordlessly presses his hand against his chest, eyes widening for a moment as he senses the empty cavity, the absence of Dany’s heart beating.    
  
“Dany, it’s okay,” Carlos whispers. “I’m sorry for freaking out, I just - I remember the pain I felt when I held you in my arms and I don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you for that-”   
  
“I know-” Dany begins but Carlos shakes his head.    
  
“But at the same time, I wonder how much time we have together. I’m worried about losing you again and I don’t think I could live with myself if you thought I hated you-”   
  
“But I understand if you did hate me,”  Dany whispers, glancing at the floor. He can’t meet Carlos’s eyes, can’t look at the man he loves. “I hurt you, I tore you apart. I left you alone,”   
  
“You did,” Carlos mutters, eyes shining with tears. “And I should hate you for that, I should hate you for what you did but I can’t, I can’t do that to you-”   
  
“But things can’t go back to the way they were either, Carlos,” Dany murmurs. “I’m not alive anymore, I’ve killed people,”   
  
Carlos’s eyes widen at the Russian’s words but he nods once, his hand folding over Dany’s cold one. “I figured that, but was that really you? Or was it the walker?”   
  
“Don’t make excuses for me,” Dany says, shaking his head. “I deserve the pain, I deserve this guilt,”   
  
“But that wasn’t you,” Carlos whispers back, his hand squeezing Dany’s. “You weren’t that person, you weren’t in control,”   
  
“But I still remember,” Dany finds himself saying, his face still pale.    
  
Carlos, however, doesn’t let go of his hand. His fingers stroke over Dany’s, his eyes never leaving the older man. Carlos looks at him the way he used to, with such much love in his eyes. Dany almost feels human again.   
  


* * *

  
  
Dany wakes up from what he could only describe as a slumber with Carlos sleeping soundly in his arms, breathing lightly against his skin. It hadn’t been easy - they had sunk back into their old friendship, yet, there was something on the surface - something that was different, that showed how much they changed. Dany watches Carlos carefully, resisting the urge to card his hand through the soft dark hair. He feels the familiar sensation of the injection wearing off - it has a certain numbness to it, like cold washing over his skin. The back of his neck  _ aches _ . It’s the only sensation he can feel. Carlos stirs against his arms, his nose wrinkling. Dany feels a smile bubble up on his lips at the sight.    
  
He’s missed this. He’s missed being this close to Carlos. He glances at the sleeping young man in his arms, wonders what pain he’s been through. He thinks back to that night, about the pills in one hand and the bottle of beer in the other. He still remembers what it feels like - the ragged paper label on the bottle, the pills seemed to taunt him. He tries not to think about the last snatches of memory he has - about slumping to the floor, hearing the footsteps in the back of his mind. He tries not to think about Carlos rushing to his side - snatching up his lifeless body, pushing back his hair. He will never know the true pain of what Carlos went through - he doesn’t want to. His hand brushes over the soft dark hair. Carlos stirs again, blinking open brown eyes.    
  
“Buenos dias,” Dany mutters under his breath.    
  
Carlos smiles and replies, his voice still thick and heavy with sleep. “Did you even sleep?”   
  
“I don’t sleep….not anymore,” Dany says, trying not to meet the Spaniard’s gaze. “It’s different since it all happened,” He watches Carlos’s hand catch his own, but doesn’t feel the soft, warm skin against his own. Carlos strokes over his thin, pale thumb, warm chocolate brown eyes boring into the undead man.    
  
“Do you feel anything?” Carlos asks softly.    
  
Dany can only shake his head. Carlos squeezes his hand tighter. “Not even this?”   
  
“I don’t feel anything anymore,” Dany whispers, only for Carlos to cup his face gently. He tries to remember what the sensation feels like, tries to remember how soft Carlos fingers were. Carlos leans in, his breath ghosting over Dany’s skin.    
  
“What about this?” He whispers, his fingers brushing over his cheek as he presses their lips together. Dany tries to pretend he can feel the sensation - he tries to pretend that he can feel it, that it’s like old times, that he’s human. Carlos kisses his lips for what seems like a lifetime, before slowly pulling away, the saliva shining on his lips. Dany shakes his head slowly as Carlos’s hand brushes underneath the soft material of his sweatpants. He doesn’t feel it, of course, but the action, the look of intent in Carlos’s eyes is enough. The words are on the end of Dany’s tongue, ready to come out when Carlos’s hand wraps around his dick.    
  
“Carlos-” He begins but he’s silenced by dark brown eyes full of desire.    
  
Carlos doesn’t respond, his fingers stroking over Dany’s cock. Dany closes his eyes, tries to pretend that he can feel it, that it’s like the old times they used to have - he remembers himself as a seventeen year old with messy hair and bad skin, Carlos looking as beautiful as he always did -    
  
“Dany?” Carlos voice cuts through the haze, but he still sounds far away - “Dany?” Carlos repeats, his voice heightening. “What are you doing?”   
  
But his voice fades away and Dany feels warmth curl over him, feels a strange sensation wash over him. He can feel the control slipping away, barely registers the flicker of fear in Carlos’s eyes as a growl pushes past his lips. He thinks of nothing else in that moment - everything seems to go red - fear, danger, heartbreak, numbness - before it comes back to him in flashes. He blinks once, taking in the sight of Carlos’s bedroom, of the same blue walls that they had lost their virginity in. However, it’s not the bedroom that makes his chest seize with emotions - it’s the sight of Carlos still twisted between the rumpled bedsheets, his face as white as a sheet. His eyes are twisted with fear and pain.   
  
“Chili-” Dany begins, panic threading through him as he comes to the frightening realisation that he lost control, that he hasn’t taken his injection and that the instinct is clawing at him. But Carlos looks terrified, his eyes fixed on Dany.    
  
“Chili, I’m sorry,”  Dany continues but Carlos shakes his head, pulls himself away from the older man. “Chili, please, I just-” He tries not to think of blood, of gore, of teeth ripping through flesh -    
  
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten you excited,” Carlos says, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t have done that, I keep forgetting you’re different now,”   
  
Dany feels something dip inside his chest at Carlos’s words. They almost feel like an realisation. He reaches out to Carlos, reaches out to grab onto the one thing that was good in his life. “I’m still the same person,” He pleads, his eyes fixed on the Spaniard. “I’m still Dany,”   
  
“But you’re not, you’ve changed,” Carlos says, eyes raking over Dany’s pale skin, over the contact lenses hiding the true form of Dany’s eyes. “You’re different now, I-”   
  
“My feelings haven’t changed though, I still love you,” Dany’s voice is barely a whisper. “I still love you,”   
  
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have killed yourself and left me to find the body,” Carlos mutters under his breath, eyes slightly glassy. Dany feels like crying, wishes that he could - his tears duct ravaged by death and by the disease.    
  
“Chili, I-”   
  
“No, Dany!” Carlos explodes, his cheeks turning bright red. “You don’t get to pretend that it didn’t happen! You don’t remember it, that’s fine, but it happened. You don’t get to act like everything is okay. I watched you die, I watched you stop breathing in my arms,”   
  
“Chili, I never meant for that to happen,”   
  
“But it did,” Carlos says, shaking his head. “You don’t understand how much it hurt, you don’t understand how it felt to hold you in my arms and feel so useless,”   
  
“I’m sorry,” Dany whispers, his cheeks red with shame. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, I never meant for you to be the one that found me,” His hand folds around Carlos’s, his fingers curling around the tanned hand of his best friend.    
  
“I know that, I know that, Dany,” Carlos says. “But it happened and when I look at you sometimes, and I realise that you’re not….alive anymore and that hurts,”    
  
“I know,” Dany says, feeling a little hurt by Carlos’s words. “But I’m still me,” His thumb rubs over Carlos’s. “I still have the same feelings for you,” He says, tugging the Spaniard closer. Carlos gazes at him with confused eyes. Dany’s lips close over Carlos’s once more - pressing all the love and attention into it. Carlos melts against him, his eyes falling shut and his mouth following - pressing just as much love into the kiss as he can stand.

 

* * *

 

It doesn’t take long before they’re falling back into the rumpled bedsheets and Dany’s lips brush against Carlos’s once more. Everything that happened between them melts away as their bodies twist together. Carlos’s hand slides through Dany’s hair as they kiss, as Dany leans into Carlos and tries to hold onto the Spaniard. He can feel Carlos’s chest rising and falling slowly against himself, his breaths catch in Dany’s mouth. Carlos’s finger smears away the thick line of make up on Dany’s face as they kiss again, Dany whining against his lips. He remembers the last time they did this when he was human, when he cupped Carlos’s cheeks in his hands. He remembers how warm he’d been, how soft his hair felt. He doesn’t even know why he ends up sliding Carlos’s pants down - why he takes Carlos’s slightly half hard cock in his mouth. He can’t feel a thing - he knows that he wouldn’t be able to - but Carlos’s mouth drops open and a moan pulls itself from his lips. His head falls back against the pillows as Dany’s tongue swirls over the slit of his cock. Carlos’s face sinks into the pillow as he calls out Dany’s name under his breath. Dany feels a smile tug on his lips as he feels Carlos melt against him.    
  
“Oh god, Dany,” He whispers, his eyes sliding shut as Dany hollows his cheeks and sucks harder on Carlos’s dick, his tongue sliding down the shaft. He can’t taste how salty the come is, he doesn’t know how soft the skin is on Carlos’s dick is. What if it’s changed since the last time? Dany thinks to think back to the first time they ever were that intimate, to the time when their hands would awkwardly fumble together, when Carlos’s mouth sloped around his half-hard cock.   
  
“Dany,” Carlos repeats, his head falling back as Dany’s tongue licks a stripe up the shaft and the Spaniard sinks into the sheets. Dany tries to imagine that he can feel Carlos’s swelling cock in his mouth, like he tries to imagine how salty the come is when Carlos eventually arches his back. His come probably splashes over Dany’s tongue but he doesn’t feel it. He doesn’t taste the sharp salt in the back of his throat. Carlos smiles at him from the side of the bed and Dany can almost pretend that everything’s okay again. He can pretend that there’s not a hole in the back of his neck, that his skin is covered in a thick layer of make up and his eyes hidden by contact lenses.    
  
He can pretend, he thinks. He can pretend for Carlos.


End file.
